


Make It Count [Roman Godfrey x Reader]

by ImaginationLane



Series: Hemlock Grove: Come On Closer Series [2]
Category: Bill Skarsgard - Fandom, Hemlock Grove
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blackmail, Blood Magic, Blood and Violence, Bonding, Erotica, F/M, Magic, Romance, Smut, Supernatural Elements, Temporary Character Death, Time Skips, Vampires, Witches, warewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2019-06-30 18:58:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15757743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImaginationLane/pseuds/ImaginationLane
Summary: It should have been the fairytale ending for Roman and I; after all, we were supposed to be getting married and more importantly become bonded. However, that dream would never come to pass…A dark and dangerous Crossbreed named Dmitri has arrived within Hemlock Grove, and he was absolutely intent on breaking Roman and I apart – for good. The vengeful and power-hungry crossbred Upir and Sorcerer, has been patiently waiting and plotting from the shadows; determined to harness my powers and ultimately – make me his. On the day he finally reveals himself to me – he almost kills Peter in the process to prove his deadly point.Fearing for the lives of Peter and Roman, as well as the rest of our families… I decide to let Roman go, and leave him… For Dmitri.Yet my choice is only one that sets off an entire chain reaction, almost like a domino effect, that could have far more disastrous and deadly consequences than I had ever anticipated. Roman, on the other hand, absolutely refuses to let me go even though I shattered his heart… And his determination to win me back, at any cost, has upset an ancient evil that is now hell-bent on taking him out of the equation – no matter what.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This piece is going to be anywhere from 5-10 parts long, and the chapters will be long. Very long (probably with the exception of this chapter). But for now, I’m placing a question mark in the title, until I’m absolutely sure on how many chapters this story is going to require out of me.
> 
> Just a small heads up: This piece is going to be dark and intense. It focuses more on what we are capable of doing for love, than actual smut. (But don’t worry, you’ll get that too lol.) I’ve always wanted to explore the limits of the world within the television series Hemlock Grove and make it into something that people would have actually liked to have seen on the show. So I’m really pushing the boundaries and limits in this, and as a fanfic writer – I’m living for it. 
> 
> Need to get up to speed? Read the first story in this series called "Come On Closer."

* * *

 

Out of all of the near-death experiences that I had so curiously read about over the years, absolutely  _none of them_  described what I am feeling right now -- in this present moment. They say that the world grows increasingly darker as you die, and you'll be greeted by this so-called "bright and loving light," but that's not true at all -- at least it's not in  _my case._  If anything, as I lie here broken, wounded and bleeding on this cold, hard concrete floor of the old abandoned Godfrey Steel Mill, the colors I'm witnessing seem to be gradually becoming more vivid than I had  _ever_  recalled seeing them before. Ironically enough, I'm not even dying over my visible or superficial wounds either; instead, I'm dying from complications of an Upir bite. I should have seen this coming; it was too evident to miss -- and yet, somehow...  _I still missed the undeniably straightforward signs._  All around me, chaos has quickly and sporadically erupted from everyone on both sides of this battle -- yet all I can do is just lie here and wait for the end.

Dimitri Shelton, a poisonously dangerous crossbreed who was half Upir and half Sourcerer with abilities that I had never seen before, was finally  _dead_  and I had killed him. Somehow though, he still managed to make good on his ominous promise, even from the depths of hell. He had warned me that he would split me apart, one way or another, from the man that I had truly loved -- and I made the  _fatal mistake_  of underestimating his determination to keep his word.

Now, I was paying the price for it.

If you would have told me several weeks ago that this is the way my life would be ending, I would have called you a  _fucking liar._

The truth is, at the time, I was convinced that I was absolutely  _untouchable._  It's perplexing really, just how much we think we're invincible until someone or  _something_  finally comes along and proves to us that we're not. It's only in this moment, at the very end, do we realize just how ignorantly we've been living throughout our entire lives. My pride, and the subsequent shallowness it bore into my life, had ultimately become my downfall. However, the one thing I can say without a shadow of a doubt, is just how eye-opening this experience is; because you simply  _do not_  realize just how bad your flaws are, or how  _dangerous_  they can become -- until the moment it becomes unavoidably and glaringly obvious.

It's poetically tragic how we all go through our entire lives, wondering what the experience of death must feel like. Yet I can tell you that through the agonizing pain that I feel, and the heightened sense of awareness that I am observing, all I can think about is  _him._

_Roman Godfrey._

The sound of sheer panic laced so passionately within his voice, as he cradles my head in his lap and screams for someone to get help -- causes me a substantial amount of sadness. All I want to do, is to take his pain away. If I could just make this easier for him, I'd give my very last breath to ensure that this perpetual agony that he's so clearly feeling -- would almost cease to exist.

Death, however, is a patient entity who greets us all in his own way. Almost like an individually customized and carefully laid out plan, Death will arrive at any point in time and collect on his debt -- regardless if you're ready to pay or not. If you're lucky, you'll live for a very long time before he decides it's the opportune moment to pay you a visit. And the not-so-lucky ones, like me? Well, we're considered the  _unfortunate ones._

Most people think of Death as some sort of hideous monster, but that couldn't be any further from reality. In retrospect, I too had always looked upon Death with fear and disdain; and as I've just figured out -- I was wrong about that as well. Death has the face of an angel, and it's a strange combination of equal parts comforting and terrifying. Even though I knew my Roman, the _real Roman Godfrey,_  was holding my limp upper body in his lap, crying out for help, I watched as Death appeared to me on the other side of the room -- looking  _exactly_  like Roman. His head was tilted precariously to the side; observing me, and waiting  _oh so patiently_  for the time to finally come.

Cautiously, he inched forward. Each step he took, echoed loudly in my ears while my eyes began to droop and feel heavy. There was no going back now, he was simply here to finish the job.

Every possible nerve ending in my body, felt as if it were lit ablaze, but I pushed through the pain enough to turn to face  _my_  Roman. When I did, I could see tears running down his perfect face, as he willed me to stay awake for him.

_He's so damn beautiful._

For a moment, a fleeting memory ran through my mind -- it was the first time I had ever met him when we were children. As fate would have it, I remember thinking that exact same sentiment the very first time I had ever laid my eyes on him...

_He's so beautiful._

Thick warm liquid, began to bubble up and fill my lungs, making it increasingly more difficult to breathe. Roman, on the other hand, looked positively  _helpless_  as he begged me to keep my eyes open. Tentatively, my right hand began to extend up, just enough to allow for my middle finger to skim across the stubbly skin on the bottom of his jaw.

"I love you Ro," the whisper fell from my lips, causing me to cough violently for a moment as more liquid began building up in my airways.

"Goddamnit Y/N! Stay awake!" His sobs had turned into screams, as he clutched me tighter to his chest; almost holding me as if he were afraid that I would break.

I took in the moment, breathing in his scent. His own spicy blend of masculinity, cigarettes and his favorite cologne. These things, that seemed so small during our time together, were now giving me the comfort and strength that I needed in my final moments. I didn't have a lot of time, but I was determined to make every single millisecond --  _count._

My voice refused to rise above a mere whisper, as I peered into his shiny emerald green eyes once again.

"Do you remember," I paused, struggling to suck in another gulp of air, "that song I sang to you, as kids, whenever you were scared?"

Growing up, Roman had been petrified of thunderstorms. His mother had rarely, if ever, comforted him during those times. So whenever I would stay the night at Godfrey Manor, as a child, either Roman or I -- would sneak to into each other's room and I would sing him to sleep. There were also a few times, that Shelly had snuck out of her own room and found us together. Thinking nothing of it, she would curl us against each side of her unusually tall figure, as I would softly lure Roman into a peaceful slumber by singing to him. As children, the three of us had looked out for one another whenever we could. I was proud to admit, that never changed as we grew older. Most people, couldn't successfully say the same and it made me appreciate both of the Godfrey siblings even more.

Tenderly Roman paused, causing him to hiccup as he cupped my head so gingerly and brushed a stray strand of hair away from my forehead. "I remember," he mumbled quietly.

"Sing it to me... Please?" The moment the words left my lips, I started to gasp for more air.

_This is a hellish way to fucking go._

As that thought crossed my mind, I heard another voice begin to sing the song that Roman and I knew by heart as children...

 _"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine."_  Suddenly, just like that -- Roman's sister Shelly was sitting on the ground and taking ahold of my small left hand. A stray tear slipped down my cheek, as I turned my gaze over to her.

_"You make me happy, when skies are gray."_

Shelly Godfrey, was a hell of a lot stronger than anyone gave her credit for. For a second, I found a type of reassuring solace in the fact that Shelly would do  _whatever_  she possibly could, in order to help Roman get through the pain of losing me this way. There was an unspoken promise in her eyes, as she carefully watched over me; an absolute vow that not even I was prepared for:  _She would be there for the ones we loved, and would do what she could for them after I was gone._  There was no anger or resentment towards me from her; there was only pure, unconditional and no-strings-attached  _sisterly love._

_"You'll never know dear, how much I love you."_

It was undoubtedly self-evident that she instinctively  _knew_  what was coming, and as she continued to sing to me and clasp my hand within her own -- she  _never once_  shed one damn tear. I didn't know just how much I needed that, until right now.

_Shelly, you're the very best person -- that I have ever known._

I wanted so badly, to just be able to tell her that... Yet,  _I couldn't._  I had all I could do just to breathe, and even  _that_  was a losing battle for me...

_"Please don't take my sunshine away."_

Death, had finally reached me as I felt the need to  _let go_  start to take over. If all of those near-death experiences I've read over the course of my lifetime, ever got anything right, it's that you  _do_  feel a sense of weightlessness right at the end.

The Reaper carefully regarded me, as he crouched down next to my legs -- patiently waiting for my fight to end.

_Why the hell does he look exactly like Roman?_

As soon as the thought ran through my mind, Death smiled.

"Because it's easier for people to let go and begin their journey to crossover into the next world; regardless of popular belief, I am an empathic entity."

My eyes went wide, as I realized that he had answered my question.

"It's not as bad as you think Y/N. I know you're scared, but once you let go... You'll begin to take pity on the living."

_This is not how it was supposed to end, you know. I can't leave him behind._

Death looked around aimlessly, as he took in my final thoughts.

"To be fair, I was rooting for you. I had hoped for a better outcome from this and if I'm being completely honest, you should have gone down another path and lived."

_I had another path? What the hell went wrong then?_

"Of course you had another path, because most people do," he began, as he focused his attention back on me. "The only problem is you resorted to something that was dangerous, because of fear and love. Fear and love, are the  _only_  two major emotions that make you humans do foolish things; but even I envy that ability that you have been blessed to have. Unfortunately for you, you tried to trick the power of the Blood Bond with Roman today, and Dimitri... He  _anticipated_  this outcome. Your death isn't a natural one, but a supernatural one. He figured that if he couldn't have you, no one would."

I could feel my heart rate begin to accelerate sporadically in my chest, I didn't have much time left.

_Is there no other way? Please, don't punish the ones I love for my mistakes._

Death regarded me thoughtfully for a moment, as he looked up towards the sky.

"There is one last chance I can offer you, but by doing so, I cannot guarantee that it will work. Once I do this, it's out of my hands and you could suffer a worse fate than the one I'm offering you right now."

_Whatever it is, I'll take it. I'm begging you... Just give me a fighting chance._

The entity took a deep breath, and looked at the people that had gathered around me. I knew they couldn't see him, but nevertheless -- he still considered them carefully. His eyes stopped on Destiny Rumancek, a beautifully gifted and proud Gypsy pyschic, and Peter Rumancek's own cousin, as she stared at him in wide-eyed shock. It was in that instance --  _I knew she could see him too._  Nodding his head at her, his eyes moved on as he noted Peter. The last time I had  _ever_  seen him look this lost, was after Letha had died. I could hear Roman asking where Gina and Pryce were. That was when Peter piped up, and explained that Gina had rushed off to her car to find her first aid and trauma kits. Surprisingly, Roman's own mother Olivia stood beside Shelly, placing a comforting hand on her own daughter -- while also trying to assure Roman she was calling Pryce to figure out where he was at. The gesture wasn't lost upon me, and for once, I was proud to see a more compassionate side to her. As she wiped her nose with a napkin, I was astounded to note that even Olivia was crying. For a woman who had made it perfectly clear that she only mildly tolerated me for the sake of her two children, I was genuinely impressed to see that even she was capable of producing feelings of grief.

The rest of the coven members, from both sides of the battle, stood around aimlessly just watching. Some were chanting prayers, charms, and spells, to ease my pain and suffering. Others, on the other hand, weren't exactly sure about what they were  _supposed_  to do.

_Please, I just need a chance. Where do I need to go?_

He smiled so serenely to me, that I almost forgot that he wasn't really Roman. "To Purgatory, of course. It's the very last place you can go and state your case, to the  _Three Judges of Fate._ "

Timidly, I nodded my head as I felt my body begin to relax. And with one last glance to my right, I locked eyes with my Roman as he pulled me impossibly close. Tears were pouring, without reservation, down his perfectly chiseled face. I would have sold my soul, just to be able to give him one last kiss goodbye.

_I'm going to fight my way back to him._

For the first time, I felt at peace in my choice, as Death began to laugh. "Coming from you? I expect nothing less. You better make it count Y/N, because it's been over 500 years since I've pissed off the judges. It's a good day to die, don't you think?"

And as more tears formed behind my own eyes, blurring my vision and threatening to spill over, I closed my eyes and greeted Death with open arms.

The very last thing I heard, after I managed to let Death take me into his loving embrace, was Roman letting out a gut-wrenching wail of panic and grief -- that would haunt me for the rest of my existence.

* * *

 

**_Seven Weeks Prior --_ **

Lightning flashed across the room, and thunder cracked loudly in the sky overhead while the wind and rain outside whipped around furiously; picking up a chilling momentum. The horrendous weather conditions hadn't changed a single bit, since that fateful morning a week ago when Dimitri blew into my life; and I began to wonder if I would ever see a clear blue sky again. It was fitting though, this storm, given these strenuous circumstances I was now faced with; but I could tell that it was supernatural in nature -- and that only meant one thing:  _I was running out of time._  It was an omen that was completely inescapable for me; and if I couldn't come up with a plan to end this once and for all, then the people that I knew and loved -- were all going to  _die._

The pen shook slightly in my hand, as I stared down at the letter I had been drafting for Roman. I didn't know if I possessed the strength to see this through or not; all I did know at the moment though, was that I had to try.

_My Dearest Roman,_

_By the time this letter finds you, I will have shattered your heart into a million pieces and left you with more questions than answers. More than likely, you're going to be torn between anger and heartbreak; almost teetering between the options of either reading this letter or throwing it into the fireplace within our bedroom. At this point, I can't say that I would blame you too much if you picked the latter option. While your feelings are completely justified, you would also regret it if you didn't at least understand why I did this; because I assure you, with every fiber of my being, that the reasons -- are not what I have lead you to believe them to be..._

_First, before I say anything else, I need you to know that I'm sorry. I love you so damn much, that it feels like I've stuck a dagger through my own heart in order to simply be able to do this._

_My time to warn you is incredibly limited, so I'll get to my point: Your life is in danger, and so is mine. Peter will be able to fill you in on all of the missing details, since he has seen what I'm up against firsthand. I'm begging you though, please listen to him. Peter's knowledge will be, without a doubt, unquestionably vital for you. I wish I could say more, but I can't. If I do, I will have compromised not just your safety -- but the safety of everyone we have ever cared about._

_In order to find Peter, you'll need to look in my small guest house, in the back of my property that is next to the tree line. I've kept him safe, alive and hidden away for as long as I can. Gina & Destiny, along with Dr. Pryce will be able to take over from here and help him recover. Tell Gina that I placed him in a "Peaceful Healing Slumber," she'll know how to get him out._

_I'll have to conceal this letter from you, until the time is right. It's the only way I could tell you what's happening, without endangering anyone any further._

_I shouldn't have pushed for a silly marriage, I should have just bonded with you and let the chips fall where they may. Now, it's killing me to know that we may never have the chance. I'm so sorry to you, for allowing my foolish pride to get in the way._

_Forever yours,_

_Y/N_

Stray tears fell from my eyes, as I finished the letter and sealed it within a black charmed envelope. This letter wouldn't present itself to Roman until I had effectively  _broken_  his heart. Taking the red candlestick within my right hand, it trembled gently, as I tried to pour wax over the flap and seal it down. Once I had completed my task, I stood up and began to make my way over to our closet. Rows upon rows of beautifully crafted, fine designer suits and dresses filled the walk-in and made me feel nostalgic. Within twenty-four hours, I would  _never_  see this closet again; and the knowledge of that sent a pang of  _agony_  through my very soul.

Tomorrow was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. I would be donning my carefully selected and designer crafted, white satin and lace wedding gown, and make my way down the aisle -- becoming  _his_  wife. It would be the crowning moment, of two wonderful years we spent together as a couple. Since Roman has asked me to marry him six months ago, I had spent months planning and painstakingly arranging every minuscule detail -- simply because I needed everything to be perfect. I wanted to appease my mother and the rest of the coven, and marry Roman before taking the Blood Bond -- which is what they had required. I wanted to please my father, and give him a memory before I took on the risky task of taking a bond that could backfire and potentially kill me. I even wanted to do the right thing for Roman's own mother, Olivia Godfrey, a woman who tolerated me at best -- simply because I knew it would mean something to her to watch her son do something honest for once.

I wanted to do the so-called  _"right thing,"_  for all of the most ludicrous reasons.

_Goddamn, how foolish have I been?_

Fresh tears welled up in my eyes, as I turned my attention back to the daunting task at hand.

Quickly, I slipped over to the very back of the closet and reached for my dark brown leather travel bag. It was filled with cash, some clothes, jewels, personal effects which included things for my spell work, and other things I would need in the coming days. I silently slid the letter inside one of the side pockets, and finally released a deep breath that I didn't realize I had been holding in. Holding the weight of the world atop of your shoulders, can feel like it'll slowly crush you alive; yet, in order to save  _his_  life --  _it was necessary._  The threat that was coming for him, was unlike anything I had ever seen before and while it scared me -- it also managed to intimidate the hell out of Peter as well. Never,  _not_   _one single time_  during the course of our six-year friendship, had I  _ever_  seen Peter as frightened as I did on the day we had come face to face with Dmitri; and that was saying something. Peter was as resilient as they come; in fact, he was usually the rock throughout the storm that even Roman had depended upon at times within our past. A gasp came tumbling out of my mouth, while I clutched my sides as I thought about just  _how close_  Dmitri had come to killing Peter that day he came into our lives.

Begrudgingly, I set the bag back into place and started to leave the closet and our bedroom -- altogether. As I halted in my tracks for a second, I began walking back over to the desk in the bedroom, where I had ten perfectly good crystals, of various sizes, shapes and colors -- laid out and waiting. I quickly snatched the crystals up and scurried downstairs, and into the spacious garage. Roman had insisted upon stocking up his garage with heavy equipment and other machinery, as a way for Peter to teach him the basics of doing light mechanic work on some of his own vehicles. The memories alone, of Roman's failed attempts to be able to work on anything  _other_  than his pristine looks, would have brought a smile to my face on any other given day. What he didn't realize, however, was that his failed investment would help me in my current endeavor.

Letting out an exasperated huff of pure frustration, I sat down at the workbench containing the hydraulic press and lined up my crystals. While I never wanted to see this moment come to pass, I finally came to grips with the fact that it was here and what I had to do next, _must_  be done.

Each stone was  _carefully_  selected from among my power stash, and  _every single one_  was created from a significant moment in my life. Seven of these ten crystals, were made in the last two years alone; each of them -- created after sharing a powerfully intimate or emotional moment with Roman. Crystals were used as a way to help witches harness their power and abilities, in case it is ever needed; almost like a  _reserve_  or a "backup plan" of sorts. If a witch were to become depleted of her powers, it became a risky life or death situation -- if she cannot recharge her energy and power within a certain amount of time. Therefore, after my power finally came in shortly after my eighteenth birthday, I was  _always_  encouraged to create as many power reserves as I could. As I placed the first stone I  _ever_  created under the hydraulic press, I watched in determination as the crystal finally split and began to deteriorate. Once it was finished, I collected the broken and dusty pieces and placed it into a plastic bag before moving onto the next. Later, I would need to grind the pieces down into a fine grain in order to achieve my desired result; but in the end -- I simply  _prayed_  that what I was about to do would be worth it.

* * *

 

It must have been an hour or so later, as I sat there grinding my crystals into a fine powdery substance, when I heard the doorbell ring. Curiously, I sat the mixing bowl on the table and began to tread lightly out of the garage and straight to the front door. Because Roman was a stickler on home security, there was a camera installed above the front door -- which had allowed me to see who had shown up. Once I had figured out who it was, I quickly breathed a sigh of relief that he finally arrived. It only took him the  _entire fucking day_  to finally get away, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

Upon unlatching the lock and opening the door, I took in the only person who I could trust to help me.

"What the hell took you so long? I've been waiting forever!"

A few years ago, I wouldn't have trusted him to feed a goldfish and keep it alive without an ulterior motive. Now, however? Doctor Johann Pryce, might be the only ally I could trust...

* * *

 


	2. Chapter One: Welcome To Purgatory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Musical Inspiration for the chapter: The Other Side by: Ruelle
> 
> [Author's Notes: This song I've attached to this chapter, is absolutely beautiful and fits so well. Quite honestly, I was amazed the first time I heard it. Expect me to use at least a few more songs from Ruelle in future chapters lol.
> 
> When it comes to timelines: As you have probably already figured out, this is certainly an AU and as far as I'm concerned -- season three of Hemlock Grove never happened lol. Suffice it to say, my stories pick up after season two, but there is no Nadia in this story. She died when Letha died, and Miranda only makes a brief appearance by mention only. Also, I had recently rewatched season two of Hemlock Grove on Netflix, and a particular storyline they had jumped out at me and I'll be using an altered version of it in this story. Finally, there is one more thing to be aware of: There will be time jumps. The introduction chapter basically gives you a big idea of why you're stuck in Purgatory; it doesn't though -- tell you the whole story, just yet.]

* * *

Bruised and bloodied knuckles, flexed tightly under the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room. The rays of bright illumination, that he could barely distinguish already thanks to his left eye nearly being swollen shut, reflected and glistened against the moron red and purplish tones that were caked against the skin of his pale colored hand; yet each time he stretched his limb from flat and open, back into a tightly wound fist -- sharp jolts of pain would shoot up his arm. Oddly, it was the pain that carried the reminder that he was still alive, and that he was most certainly not stuck in one of those repetitive nightmares he had been silently dealing with for weeks. The reality around him was painstakingly real. All he could muster the energy to do, at the moment, was to stare down in silence at his wounded hand with his one good eye that wasn't completely fucked up at the moment, and pray for some sort of absolution from the damnation that seemed to follow him around like a raging, dark storm cloud -- hanging so brutally over his head.

Within six weeks, he went from planning to spend the rest of his life with his lifelong best friend and the woman of his dreams -- only to have it brutally ripped away. Now, he was finding himself facing the chillingly real possibility that he was losing the woman he loved -- and there was next to  _nothing_  that he could do to stop any of it. Roman Godfrey had never felt so powerless before in his life, and the feeling was intrusively consuming and unwelcomed. It caused a blindingly bitter and uncontrollable rage, to swell to life within his broad chest as he began to blame himself for not just bonding with her sooner.

_If Y/N dies, it will be my fault..._

Currently, she was in emergency surgery with Doctor Pryce, and his loyal team of nurses and doctors, working overtime to save her life. The very millisecond she had stopped breathing in his arms and ceased responding to him, less than an hour ago, he could have sworn that he felt his whole world crumble and shatter into thousands of tiny splinters -- all around him. It was his own screams that caused Y/N's cousin Gina, to subsequently rush back into the building with her first aid and trauma kits and begin to attempt CPR on her. If he thought the brutal battle that he had just fought against Dimitri had been tumultuous, he was utterly mistaken. Peter grabbed him from behind without hesitation, as Gina set Y/N's body flat on the ground and began administering chest compressions to her fallen family member. Her lips were already turning blue, and he couldn't help her.

In his short 23 years of life, Roman Godfrey had never fought as hard against anyone, as he did at that exact moment against his best friend -- Peter Rumancek. Within moments, it had gotten to a point where Roman's very own sister, Shelly, was forced to intervene and help Peter pin him down to the ground; just so Gina could work unhindered without his interference. Roman, however, was in the midst of a full-blown panic attack. Logic and reason fell by the wayside, unable to penetrate into his anxiety-stricken mind, and the only thing he could be certain of -- was that he was entirely crippled with fear at the mere prospect of losing her.

Destiny, on the other hand, was trying to clear her airway as best as she could so she could seal Gina's medical bag valve over Y/N's face -- and pump some much-needed oxygen in through her lungs. But she was having difficulty achieving that task, as more fluid spilled forth from Y/N's lips.

"Her left lung has collapsed and her right one is sure to follow! Destiny, take this tube!" Gina barked loudly, as she continued her chest compressions and nodded over towards her medical bag. "On my count, you're going to find the area between her fourth and sixth ribs, and jab it into her lung. We have to get the liquid out of there if we want to have a chance at saving her!"

Roman's mother Olivia, was the most collected person of the bunch. The ferocious warning glares, that she shot over to the numerous faces she glanced at around the room, had frightened the witches of Dimitri's former coven into stepping back and observing without saying a word. Especially since their  _new leader,_  was now fighting for her life. Those temperamental scowls immediately conveyed one strong and determined message:  _Interfere in any way that harms her, and I'll kill you where you stand._

Oliva knew far better than most, that it was no secret that witch societies could be a bit barbaric in nature; most especially if a leader of a coven was weakened in any way, then they were in danger of being killed by some of the others in the circle -- if only so that witch could assume control over the coven. Witch covens had served an unparalleled purpose of protecting each other, and they did that with incredible accuracy and deadly precision. However larger covens could experience dysfunction, and without a strong leader in place, they would begin to turn on each other very quickly. When Y/N had dealt Dimitri his death-blow, she managed to also inherit his coven in the process as well. With that knowledge at the forefront of her mind, she knew that any one of Dimitri's old coven members -- could silently be plotting a way to finish what their leader had started and kill Y/N in her already deteriorated state. The moment she killed Dimitri, Y/N assumed power over one of the largest covens Oliva had ever seen, and that frightened her -- because it meant one major thing:  _It would put Y/N and Roman on The Order's radar._ There was no way The Order wouldn't see a coven of this size and magnitude -- as anything other than an act of aggression and threat to their power.

Her eyes bore holes into each of the women and men, who stood around watching everything that was unfolding in front of their very eyes, continuously daring them to test her patience.

When she was satisfied that none of them would risk certain death just yet, she quietly situated herself and knelt on the ground next to her distressed son's face -- trying to compel him to calm down.

"Listen to me Roman, you know how deadly our venom can be," It was Oliva's harsh lowered tone that snapped Roman's attention away from trying to thwart Shelly and Peter away from him, into listening to his mothers words and looking over towards Gina and Destiny -- as they continued to exhaust their efforts to resuscitate Y/N. "That fucking half-breed could smell your venom running through her veins, the moment she walked through that door. I saw it in his eyes, and I saw the realization in hers too. It's why she threw that first curse at him, she didn't have a choice Roman because the circumstances changed; she had to improvise and go for the kill while she still had the chance."

The memory of Oliva's words were still ringing in his head, just like an annoyingly broken record, as Peter strolled into the waiting room -- taking a seat next to Roman. Peter himself, was looking a little worse for wear and that was saying something; usually on the principle that he just didn't care about the idea of impressing anyone with his appearance. He sucked in a ragged breath, while he sat down and tried to make himself comfortable. Roman could tell that his ribs were bothering him slightly, and it was possibly due to the fact of the well-placed punches that he threw at him, during their altercation. Lightly, Peter set a cup of black coffee on the table for his friend, pulled out his cigarette pack from his right-side jacket pocket and offered one to him. With shaky hands, Roman reached over and plucked a single smoke out of the pack and watched as Peter struck his trusty silver Zippo lighter, in order to light his cigarette for him. Peter had never seen Roman look so pathetically downtrodden, and quite frankly, he was alarmed to consider what Roman may do to himself -- if Y/N didn't make it.

Silence hung over the air, like the stench of death and smoke that clung to the fabric of their clothes. On any given day, Roman would have normally been the first one to crack a wise-ass joke on anyone he felt like being a jackass to; but for the better part of the last several weeks -- Roman had changed. Gone was the typical, carefree young billionaire of two months ago, and in his place, sat a man who had seen the cruelty and brutality of the world -- and it changed him. While it was safe to say that his love for Y/N was still fully intact, it was also easy to see that she had become his main focus over those past weeks as well. He had practically given Olivia and Pryce temporary control of  _The Godfrey Institute_ , then walked away and threw multiple resources into tracking down Dimitri and Y/N. 

Ironically, Roman and Peter were still no closer to finding out why Dimitri had chosen her or even how he found her in the first place. Nothing made sense to either of them when it came to his actions, but Roman had also had a nagging feeling that his mother may have been hiding something critical to their investigation on him. But that, in his mind, was a battle best reserved for another day; and it was one he was determined to have out with her -- if Y/N died due to his mother's failure to be more forthcoming with him. 

"Has anyone come in here and given you an update on Y/N yet?"

_Awkward silences used to be Peter's forte; clearly, that's not the fucking case anymore._

Finally, Roman released a sigh and shook his head. "Not yet, and it could be hours before Pryce can tell us anything."

Closing his eyes, Peter took a deep breath in -- before exhaling slowly and opening his eyes. It was going to be a long night, so he might as well find something he could use as an ashtray and get comfortable. For once in his life, Peter made the solemn vow to see something through, no matter how ugly it gets; and he was determined on making good on that promise.

Not just for himself, but most importantly, because he had also promised Y/N too...

* * *

 

Shadows and slivers of light danced and flashed in front of me, causing my eyes to flicker to life and finally open for the first time since I expired. For a moment, I hoped that everything I had previously seen, felt and experienced, was just a horrifying dream. Personally, I expected there to be some type of potential pain; perhaps a residual agony of leftover pain from the way I had passed -- yet, there was nothing. No more pain, misery or stress; and certainly none of the wretchedly foul odors of burning flesh or death that I had grown accustomed to before I had arrived here. Instead, there was the faintest lingering feeling of sadness at the fact that I wouldn't see my loved ones anymore.

Blinking my eyes a few more times, I slowly rubbed away the exhaustion that had consumed me; and as I took in the view of the white, splatter textured ceiling above me -- I came to the epically grand conclusion that I was indeed, still very much  _alive._

I didn't bother pushing the covers down from my body, and instead, I simply sat up and took in my immediate surroundings. Obviously, I was in a bedroom somewhere, but I couldn't figure out where exactly. I had never seen this place before, and the unfamiliarity alone was enough to put me on edge. Quite frankly, I was tired of being hustled around from place to place and not having the slightest clue about where I was at -- it was beginning to get rather annoying.

_If I'm alive, then where the hell am I?_

"I already told you little one, you're in Purgatory." His voice cut through my confusion like a hot blade, slicing through a stick of softened butter -- practically startling me in my newly awakened state.

Truth be told, his voice shouldn't have frightened me this much and I should have been expecting it, but I would be lying if I said I didn't jump a good five feet off of that bed -- sending myself crashing straight onto the cream-colored, carpeted floor. Just as I began to realize what I had done, I could hear him start to chuckle from the other side of the room -- all whilst I groaned to myself and began to sit up slightly.

"Go fuck yourself," the obvious huff of annoyance did little to help my dignity, while I began to pull myself up off of the floor -- using the side of the bed for minor some support. If anything, my response only seemed to make my plight even funnier to the entity; caused him to laugh just that much harder at my semi-embarrassing mishap.

For a fraction of a minute, however, my embarrassment started to subside while I listened to him laugh. His laugh sounded exactly like Roman's, which induced a feeling of momentary sadness in me.

_How the hell am I going to get through this, without him?_

From out of nowhere though, a new thought dawned upon me as I stood back up and looked over in his direction...

"Wait a minute, you're still here! How? Don't you have other people to... I don't know, take over to the other side, or something?"

My question, must have been genuinely amusing to him; because he practically lost it and gave me one of the most intensely richest and soothing sounding laughs, I had ever heard in my whole life. A pang of anguish pierced through my soul, causing me to falter. It hurt to know that there was a very real possibility that I would never hear Roman's carefree laugh again. And just like that, a rush of guilt settled into my heart as I began to think about Roman and all of my loved ones -- I had left behind. I could not even begin to imagine how destroyed he must be feeling right now, and it was probably for the best that I didn't dwell on that -- especially since I needed to find my way to the so-called  _Three Judges of Fate,_ and find a way to convince them to restore my life.

Switching gears, I decided not to concentrate on the things I couldn't change at the present moment and instead focus my energy on getting answers. It was evident that I had bigger things to worry about, currently. But first...

"Would it be too much for me to ask you for one, tiny little favor..."

Once he settled down, his eyes locked onto mine, and I felt myself getting lost in a sea of reassurance. Reassurance, that I didn't realize I needed, until now. I had a sneaking suspicion that he may have sensed that I needed that, and yet while that may have been true, I didn't want to lose sight of why I was here. Besides, it also didn't feel right accepting his comfort either.

"And what would that be?" Death asked me curiously, as he tilted his head to the side and observed me from his seated position in the comfortable looking leather chair -- just on the other side of the room.

"I need you to  _stop looking like Roman._  You're not him and it's not helping me right now. Can't you just take the form of anyone else from my life?"

For a moment, the entity broke his infamously cool exterior and looked mildly surprised by my request.

"I wish I could, but unfortunately, I cannot. This appears to be the form you seem to respond to, and trust, the most. By assuming Roman's form, whether you know it yet or not, it gives you comfort -- and allows me to guide through the intimate tasks that lie ahead," he paused in his explanation, carefully standing up from his chair and beginning to tread carefully over to where I stood. I felt so small in front of him, and way less powerful at this point. Death himself, was somewhat of an intimidating creature. It was a feeling, that I had received from Roman before -- but that was a different feeling. The sharp contrast between the feelings that they both managed to invoke from me on a subconscious level, wasn't lost upon me. And the knowledge alone seemed to cement my already unyielding resolve, even more, to get back to Roman as quickly as I could.

"If you want to make it through the challenges that come, you'll need to trust me to help you. That's why this is the only form I'm  _allowed_  to take." 

His admission had momentarily caught me off guard.

 _The only form he was allowed to take?_   _What the hell did that even mean?_

"All the answers will come in due time, I assure you." He answered back with an infinitely small, yet sad, smile. "In the meantime," he paused, as he stood up from his seated position and fixed his form-fitting and finely tailored black suit. "Why don't we take a walk? And try to keep your thoughts to a minimum, they can be quite loud."

His eyes peered into my own once again, causing me to shift uncomfortably in my spot. I couldn't quite pinpoint what about this look made me feel so uncomfortable -- but it did.

"You shouldn't look at me like that, you know; it's hard to see Roman's face and body and know that you're  _not_   _him,_ " averting my gaze from his. "It's not fair," I finished in a barely distinguishable whisper, before swiftly moving over to the bedroom door.

"After you," I mumbled, waiting for him to take the hint and lead the way.

For the first time, I began to notice something peculiar; not only did this entity take on the physical human form of Roman -- he also dressed like him as well. Clearly, he was adapting to the real Roman's walk, the way he would talk to me with such tenderness and his mannerisms too. There had to be a reason for it, more than the one he was telling me.

* * *

 

The Reaper graciously lead me out of the bedroom, and down a long white corridor. There were various hallway style furnishings, such as small tables with vases of fresh flowers, and paintings that adorned the walls around us. The raised style ceilings, however, were the highlight of this place. Everything was so spaciously wide-open, that I could hear the echos of his shoes as we continued to walk over towards a spiral staircase. My bare feet, tapped ever so gently across the heated marble floors, while I followed closely behind him.

He took the stairs two at a time, owing to the fact he was long-legged while taking the form of Roman, and I followed behind him into the foyer -- wondering where he was taking me. Finally, a moment later, Death stopped in front of a plain white wall, right beside the grandiose giant oak colored double doors. He looked back at me for a few seconds smiling, as waved his hand over the wall causing me to let out an audible gasp. There, behind a small sliding plank, hidden within the wall -- was a magnificent hourglass.

Admittedly, it was probably the most beautiful hourglass I had ever seen. I could tell that whoever had crafted it, took care to make sure that it stood out in the most modernly simplistic way. The glass looked thin and fragile where the sand would visibly run through, but the silver flat top was carved with intricate designs, that I couldn't quite make out -- slid off to the side and exposed the fine, grainy white colored sand inside. I had become mesmerized and transfixed on it's beauty, that I had missed the fact that the creature was patiently waiting for me to acknowledge his presence.

"May I have your hand, please?" He questioned cautiously, whilst reaching his own hand out for mine in return.

Curiously, I glanced between him and the hourglass, wondering what was going on.

"I need a few drops of your blood, to put it into the hourglass. The moment your blood hits the sand, it will alert the Judges to the fact that you're here -- and ready to begin your trial."

Nervously, and out of pure distrustful instinct given all that I just been through, I took a small step back.

"I know I had agreed to a trial, but you never actually explained to me what that trial would be either. I want to know what will happen to me, before I give you my blood. I know what blood oaths are, I dealt with them quite a lot before I ever got here."

I already knew I would have to state my reasons for wanting a so-called "do-over" to The Judges, but this -- only made me more anxious. It didn't make sense that a blood oath was required for this and I began to feel as if I had, perhaps, gotten in way over my head without even realizing it; and there appeared to be a lot more to what was going on here -- than I had originally thought there would be.

"Relax, it's a normal part of the process," his voice had suddenly switched tones, and his calm demeanor was beginning to put me at ease. "Please, I need you to take a leap of faith and trust me." I couldn't describe the sincerity I heard in his voice, but I felt it all the same. My heart rate began to slow back down to a normal pace, yet I was still marginally cautious of what to expect -- once I completed this task. Eventually, I realized that fighting this wasn't going to do me any favors; so I gingerly placed my right hand in his left one -- feeling his long fingers tenderly clasp my own.

"Close your eyes," His whispered command, suddenly compelled me to obey without a second thought. In hindsight, it should have unnerved me just how effortlessly I managed to comply; especially given the fact that even though I was still feeling an overwhelming amount of doubt -- it was almost as if he managed to use Roman's own supernatural ability to compel others to do his bidding. The most interesting part of all though, was that before this very moment -- the real Roman was never actually able to use his little mind control trick on me.  _Ever._

Perhaps things were different over in Purgatory, but in the meantime, I decided to file this new piece of knowledge away... For now, at least.

It was less than a moment later, I gave a small hiss of pain as a felt the pressure of a razor-sharp blade drag across my open and exposed palm. I opened my eyes, watching as the thick crimson liquid began bubbling deliberately to the surface. Turning his attention away for merely a second, he waved his hand in front of the glass box that held hourglass in the wall and I closely observed as it began to float closer to him. After he slid the top over to the side, he tugged my hand closer to the opening of the hourglass, effectively causing my blood to drip down from my exposed wound -- and onto the sand. Without warning, he let my now throbbing hand go and I watched in mild fascination, as the sand began to swirl around while he placed the top back on the hourglass and set it back into its resting place inside of the wall. White sand, turned scarlet as it finally settled into place at the bottom of the hourglass and the protective glass casing that housed the object, slid shut once more.

"What was that? Because I have just the tiniest hunch, that this -- is no ordinary hourglass," my eyes stayed glued to the now glowing sand, awestruck and amazed by what I had just witnessed. 

He smiled back at me, before replying, "it's called the  _Hourglass of Life._  Every memory, whether consciously or unconsciously experienced -- is in that jar. In total, this hourglass gives you 24 hours, to remember the key events in your life that led you here. Which leads me, to my next points."

Gingerly, he cupped my hand within his left hand; bringing my bloodied and soiled hand up to his lips. His eyes had once again, locked onto my own as he blew warm air across the cut so tenderly -- I practically never even felt it. Just as quickly as it appeared, the wound on my hand was gone; causing me to stare in dumbstruck wonder and my newly healed skin. My palm was no longer throbbing due to the sting of the gash; instead, it was felt as good as new. I let go of his hand, flexing my fingers and stretching my hand open as far as it could go, before closing it once again.

"Thank you."

It seemed that my gratitude was appreciated by the Reaper, causing him to small at me before he began to move on.

"Right over here," he began, as he took a few steps to our left, "is how you'll leave Purgatory." 

In front of me, were the two giant oak doors that I saw several minutes earlier. While they were unremarkable in nature -- they were still daunting to look at nevertheless.

"These doors, serve three purposes. The first purpose is to take you back to any specific moment in your life, in order to examine the choices you made and learn why you are here. Their second purpose is for when you want to visit the people you love. Your loved ones won't be able to interact with you, much less see you, unless they have the  _Gift of Sight._  But you'll still be able to see them, and observe how things are going where they are. The third, and perhaps the most important purpose these doors serve, is that they will open to the outside --  _only_  when the Judges are ready to see you. But it will be a while before that happens, as you're required to at least use all the time afforded to you, thanks to the hourglass, so you can re-examine your memories. They will not agree to meet with you, or even agree to hear your case, until that task is complete. That's actually, why I'm here with you." 

The new information slammed into me and circled around my mind at hyper speed, causing me some slight confusion.

"Okay, so let me get this straight. The Judges need me to relive parts of my life again, or view the memories of my life again, in order for me to understand how I got here? Is that it? That seems a little too simple."

His lips twitched while contemplated my question, causing them to fall into a slight frown as his full attention zeroed in on me. As his eyes caught mine though, it was only then, that I realized that while he may look like Roman in physical appearances -- his eyes were quite a bit different. Roman's eyes were the window into his very soul, and I could easily connect to him whenever I stared into them. They shone with either a light or a darkness, depending upon his ever-evolving moods, that only he was capable of pulling off with astonishing efficacy. This creature's eyes, on the other hand,  _did not give away anything._  It was almost as if, he had no soul whatsoever. To be honest, if I hadn't been through what I had already experienced thanks to Dimitri -- this would have been a bit frightening to me. If anything, noticing this small yet remarkable change, only reinforced where I was and who exactly I was dealing with:  _Death._

"Y/N, you're here to learn valuable lessons from your life that you may have missed. Things that caused you, to end up here in Purgatory -- of all places. Before anyone can see the  _Three Judges of Fate_ , they must have a firm understanding of how they ended up here, why they're here -- and most importantly, who they hope to become if there were to get a second chance and get their lives back. It's imperative that you take this seriously, because there are fates worse than me waiting for you -- should you fail in your task and the Judges actually decide not to grant you a second chance."

His explanation, while peculiar, also made a lot of sense. If I wanted to be able to stand a chance with these judges and plead my case to them in order to get my life back, perhaps I should know where I went wrong and how I got here in the first place.

"So how does this work? I just relive some memories and then the judges will see me? Also," I paused breifly as I broke eye contact with him and moved around him to stand in front of the grand doors that were keeping me prisoner in this overwhelming mansion. "What do you mean that there are fates worse than you waiting for me, should I fail to convince The Judges?" 

Instinctively, I could feel his demeanor shift. It was remarkable how I could feel his moods ebb and flow as our conversations progressed — even though I wasn't even looking at him.

"Something like that, yes. But it's a bit more complex than you realize. Only when you've completed the tasks, will The Judges agree to speak with you. Not a moment beforehand."

Turning my attention back around to face him, I stood there expectantly; waiting for him to finish.

"And my other question?"

_I know you heard it; let's not play coy with each other._

His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment, as he released a sigh. "Your thoughts can be so loud sometimes." It appeared that for the first time since we met, I managed to make him uncomfortable. It was an oddly telling exchange for me; and it was one that I could tell made him very uneasy.

"Should you fail, and The Judges decide not to give you another chance at life... You will only have two options from there. You will be granted an opportunity to voice an opinion about why you would prefer one option over the other but you can only choose one of these options. Afterwards, they will have the ultimate vote in the matter." His warning was beginning to scare me. If I didn't know any better, he actually seemed afraid.

"What are the two options? What are you not telling me?" My mind was racing with all sorts of painful possibilities, but absolutely nothing could have prepared me for what he was about to say next.

"The two options are death or obliteration. If they choose death, I will be in charge of carrying you to the other side and it will be the only mercy you will ever be afforded from them. You will not be allowed to linger in the physical realm or see your loved ones again, until it's their time to join you on the other side. Since Roman is an Upir, it would be entirely possible that you wouldn't see each other again for hundreds, if not thousands, of years. Most who die a more natural or spontaneous death, get the choice to stay and watch over their loved ones. You would not, as you would be removed from this plane of existence entirely. However, if they choose obliteration, then it will be as if you never existed. Your soul will be destroyed, you will have no physical body and every memory of you -- will be wiped from the minds of your loved ones forever."

I felt my stomach sink to the floor, as my legs almost gave out from underneath me. My face must have adequately expressed my shock, as he stepped closer to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. I couldn't move, as my feet felt cemented to the floor below.

"I don't have a choice, I have to convince them to give me my life back." In my stress and anxiety, tears began to fall from my eyes as I took in the reality of what I had asked for.

I gave away my only chance to at least be able to watch over my family, friends and loved ones; to even watch over and protect Roman -- for a small chance that The Judges, might let me come back to them.

"If I didn't believe you could get them on your side Y/N, I would never have offered to bring you here. I know you will be able to do this, because you're stronger than you realize. You just need to trust your instincts, and I'll help you as much as I can." 

Suddenly, I looked up at him and it all the puzzle piece began to click into place. Whether I wanted him to be or not, he was my only hope to make it out of here alive. My choices were limited, and I needed an ally.

Quietly, he stepped back and held out his right-hand for mine.

"I vow that I will help you, in any way that I can, that protects you. In return, I simply ask that you trust me, even when it feels impossible to do so." 

Apprehensively, I bit my lip and stared at his outstretched hand. My intuition softly guiding my shaky limb directly to his.

"Where do we start first?" I asked patiently, waiting for him to take the lead. 

Finally, he smiled at me.

"Where else would we start? From the very beginning, of course."

* * *

 


End file.
